


The pigs of animal farm.

by HomicidalTeaBreak



Category: Animal Farm - George Orwell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomicidalTeaBreak/pseuds/HomicidalTeaBreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Non-con warning because it's suggested but it's not carried through but still, i wasn't too comfortable with it even though I wrote it so I put the warning there) <br/>Basically a long while ago after I'd finished my GCSEs they gave us like 3 months off which I spent staying up till 7am and sleeping through the day. Due to my general lack of sleep and just finished exam on the book 'Animal Farm' for english... I wrote this. I REALLY WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT THIS WAS A JOKE AND I PERSONALLY FOUND IT HILARIOUS. I posted it to Sociallyunacceptableart.tumblr.com for their fanfic fridays and loved the attention my weird creation got. I'm still kinda proud.<br/>So here it is. </p><p>Some writing I shat out at 4am so very long ago....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The pigs of animal farm.

The sun was rising over the newly claimed Animal Farm, the windmill shadowed the house; it was almost finished. Napoleon stood at the window to look at the large windmill, the animals had already started their work for the day carrying the large stones up the hill to crush at the bottom. He tied a tie around his neck under the turned up collar, gripping a cigarette between his teeth as he looked at his own reflection. He straightened the white pinstripe waist coat and fixed his hair, pig ears flopping slightly, "Four legs good, Two legs better." A calm voice sounded from behind him, he smirked and turned to the source of the voice. Squealer lay in the bed, sheet loosely hanging over his naked form, he tried to strike a match to light the cigarette hanging lazily from his lips.  
"Let me get that for you.." Napoleon said, walking over smoothly and taking the box of matches from the smaller pig, striking the match easily and putting the flame to the end of the cigarette. Squealer looked up at him before inhaling the smoke, smiling as he turned on his back, "That's a nice suit. Can't be one of Jones' the man has no style."  
"Whymper got it tailored."  
Squealer pouted, "And I don't get a pretty suit?"  
"I'll make sure you do." A smile spread across Napoleon's face as he sat by the younger pig, reaching a hand over to fiddle with the soft ears that perched themselves on Squealer's head. He put out his cigarette and climbed further onto the bed, "I think we have a little time before you have to out to give your little pep talk…" He almost purred as he climbed over the smaller pig, taking the newly lit cigarette from his mouth and placing it in the ash tray beside the bed.  
"Well, they can wait anyway…" Squealer smirked, "Take all the time you need." He pulled the red tie out of it's position tucked into the white pinstripe waist coat, pulling the other against him, pressing their lips together. Napoleon gladly took the kiss and returned it, tangling his tongue with Squealer's like they had multiple times before. The smaller pig worked on undressing his elder, removing the tie and unbuttoning the waist coat as Napoleon made the kiss more adventurous, tugging on the other's bottom lip. 

Once Napoleon's clothes were removed from the picture, he threw the sheets over both of them, smoothing his hands over his lovers skin, taking in every bump and rib. To him the pig was perfect, tender, supple… beautiful. Squealer wrapped his arms round the neck of his partner, whimpering at the touches as they kissed passionately, Napoleon was already getting to his soft spots, then again it wasn't hard for the older pig; his cold hands created soft spots. When he started grinding into him, Squealer practically melted under his elder, throwing his head back to moan out. "Quiet now, Squealer…" Napoleon smirked, "We would hate it if someone heard, wouldn't we?"  
Squealer gave a glassy eyed look, nodding and keeping his mouth shut. He pressed Napoleon's lips to his neck, shivering at how cold they were. They were like ice, spreading blooms of frost across the younger pig's neck; his breath grew heavy and hot in contrast to the cold blooms Napoleon spread across his neck. He gasped and wrapped his legs around his lover, hand tangling into his hair, Napoleon had begun to press into his entrance. Squealer's trotters twitched, his hands clawed for something to grip onto so he could take the pressure that pushed against his insides. He would often debate with himself weather this meant that Napoleon was too big or that he was too small, either would make it feel as good. 

The older pig gripped his lover's ass, squeezing it hard, "Why don't you start living up to your name for me…?" He purred into Squealer's ear as he began to thrust, the younger pig obeyed without thought, squealing as Napoleon's length pushed deep into him. He began to shake, beads of sweat formed on his brow, his black hair beginning to soak the sweat up. Napoleon smirked, wincing slightly as his lover's hard black nails dug into his back, none the less he thrusted, steadily getting harder and faster, Squealer's moans getting louder. The bed began to squeak - curse these old beds, covering the younger pig's moans almost.  
Napoleon changed their position, pushing Squealer's legs up against him. The smaller pig's arms flopped behind him, gripping the pillow tightly. All thoughts of someone hearing had gone, they no longer cared - Snowball had been gone for a long time and the other pigs would be out bothering the animals; they were alone. Together. And that's how it would be. 

They continued their passion's for another hour before coming, Squealer first. They had an agreement, the first to cum had to finish off the other, this meant that today, Napoleon got a blow job before he went out to address his followers for the day. He dressed again in the same way he had before, white pinstriped suit and red tie; he added on a cane and let his monocle hang from the chest pocket on a gold chain. Squealer also took time to dress, until he got his own personal suit, he wore Jones' sunday best; an outfit that fit him very well. It was a tweed jacket and trousers, though it fit him it didn't suit his black hair and glasses, Napoleon already had a suit in mind for his lover, black and tight fitting - anything large wouldn't be acceptable, Napoleon wanted to see the curves that now belonged to him; Squealer was his, he wouldn't let some whore of a sew take his interest.

\---

During the progress of the day Napoleon decided that it was right to take Squealer to get his suit tailored. Naturally, he requested Whymper to come along as their financial adviser, the man was timid around the animals, he was weak willed, this meant he was easy for Squealer to manipulate. 

The three walked down the street, getting looks and glares, neither Squealer nor Napoleon cared much, Whymper on the other hand looked almost embarrassed to be seen with the two pigs. When they walked into the tailor's shop, Whymper closed the shop, Squealer always thought he was being over cautious when he did these things and yet Napoleon took it in as if he was a celebrity, the younger pig rolled his eyes at this, just like him. 

Squealer almost had no choice in suit he was to wear, Napoleon had already decided on what he wanted the younger pig to wear, who was Squealer to refuse? after all, as Boxer often said, 'Napoleon is always right.'  
He was ordered to try the garment on, not asked or requested, ordered. He did as he was told, deciding to take on Boxer's motto as he trotted into the changing cubicle. He hung the brilliant suit on the hook and closed the curtain, "No peaking." He said, attempting to not let the smile on his face to affect his tone of voice. 

Whymper gave a strange look at this comment, it was a stupid thing to say on Squealer's part, although it brought somewhat of a smile to the older pig's face. He looked at a pocket watch briefly, "I think I'll walk around the town for a little.." Napoleon said simply as he put he watch away, "No harm in a walk."  
Whymper attempted to stammer out a protest but the pig would not listen, he walked to the door and left without any other words. 

Squealer had heard Napoleon's exit, dramatic as always. None the less he started undressing, removing the old suit of Jones' from his skin and throwing it in a corner in almost disgust. As long as he had been wearing the tweed suit he had always hated it, a reminder of the disgusting man they once served. As he stood naked in front of the full length mirror he couldn't help but look himself over, curved hips and slim legs, not to mention an ass to die for if he said so himself. He looked over to the suit, almost ready to put it on, it wasn't often he was allowed to simply stand naked somewhere after the revolution, Napoleon demanded clothes to be worn apart from during the obvious. 

As he reached for the suit, a small sigh escaping his lips, the curtain was drawn back harshly and he found himself pinned to the back. He squealed loudly, panicking as he looked into Whymper's eyes, not Napoleon's but Whymper's. The man looked shaky, nervous as he moved his face closer to Squealer's neck, smelling his sent before beginning to gently peck the soft skin. Squealer's skin crawled under Whymper's lips, they weren't as smooth or as cold as Napoleon's, they were rough and strangely warm and damp. He pushed at the man, though attempts at shoving him off were cut off as Whymper's warm hand grabbed at what he shouldn't be touching. Another squeal of surprise, the worst part of this all was that he was disgusted by it and yet, tempted by the alien feeling of warmth against his skin. He didn't want to be tempted by Whymper, Napoleon would find out and he'd end up like Snowball, savaged by dogs and left to die deep in the forests. He pushed weakly, forcing moans down as he did so, refusing to breathe with the fear it may cause even the smallest implication of his interest. 

The bell to the shop rang. Steps were heard but Whymper didn't stop, no no, his usual stammering self was long gone. Napoleon was quick to grab the man's collar from behind and drag him off, eyes full of disgust and anger, he pressed his cane into the man's chest, “What do you think you're doing you disgusting cretin?!” he shouted. Whymper sunk back, returning to a nervous state, trying to stammer out an excuse. Squealer however, had long fallen to the floor, covering himself up with his discarded clothing as tears sprung to his eyes, glasses misting up. Napoleon continued to shout at the man before a loud thump was heard, a swift crack and running.

Once Whymper had run from the scene, Napoleon stood over Squealer, face unsure, “What were you doing...?” he asked, more upset than angry, Squealer did his best to suck up the tears, swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat.  
“H-he just.. p-pinned me down an-and I couldn't g-get away..” he stammered out before feeling the cold hand of Napoleon's on his head. The elder pig sighed, “I understand..” He said calmly as he helped his lover from the floor, “Let's get you dressed in your new suit and we'll go home. Then bed.” With that, Napoleon assisted a shaking squealer dress and walked him home, hand in hand. 

\----

It was sunset by the time the pigs returned to the farm, the animals stared as Squealer's shaken attitude made it clear that him and Napoleon's trip to the town tailor wasn't as enjoyable as planned. What made it worse was his shrugging of Napoleon's comforting efforts as the lesser pig ran inside the house away from the older pig. The animals began to whisper speculations of what happened, much to Napoleon's displeasure as he was left outside the door. He turned to the small crowd, anger in his eyes, a low growl of his dogs could be heard as a warning for them to go about their usual business. They did so, hurrying along back to their work not saying a word as Napoleon closed the house door, hurrying upstairs to him and squealer's bedroom. 

The lesser pig sat on their bed, head in his hands, still shaking from the previous encounter. Napoleon sat next to him, whispering his name softly as he leaned in to put his arm round his lover. Squealer stood up, swiftly moving away to the full length mirror on the cupboard where he looked over himself in his new sleek black suit. Napoleon, somewhat upset by this movement, stepped behind him, wrapping his arms around the lesser pig, “Whymper is a disgusting man...” He said quietly, “I'll have his head for what he tried to do to you..”  
“It's fine..” Squealer replied in a quiet, shaken voice, raising a hand to touch Napoleon's own, “It was horrible but...”  
“But what?” Napoleon began, “This man tried to take you from me, against your will and against my own. What kind of creature beside our own kind tries to do such a thing to a pig?”  
Squealer gave a small smile as Napoleon moved away, looking out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back. His sleek design and well fitting suit soaked in the orange glow of the sunset, the image made Squealer almost melt to the floor with the knowledge that this pig was his. Possibly shared with one or two sews but his none the less. He moved over, placing a hand on Napoleon's shoulder, “Idiots apparently...” 

Napoleon smiled, patting the lesser pigs hand gently, “Now now, Squealer... Idiots have feelings too.. Just easily manipulated ones.”  
Squealer chuckled, hands slipping around Napoleon's neck, “How about you work on comforting your poor damaged squealer, hm?” 

With this said, the elder pig turned to wrap his arms around Squealer's waist, twisting the pink curled tail in his fingers. “I'd hate to see you out of such a brilliant suit, but if you insist...”


End file.
